Shassie and the Tight Pants
by KiraSparrow
Summary: In which Shawn buys some very tight pants and has a devious plan. Lassie doesn't stand a chance. Slash. Shassie. Smut. Silliness. Established relationship.


Warning: Slash. Smut. Silliness. Established relationship.

A/N: Just so you know, dear reader, I am a lesbian writing male gay smut. Just... be aware of that as you get to the fun bits, and please treat me gently if you critique them.

**Shassie and the Tight Pants**

"These pants hug my body even better than your mother,"Shawn said, turning in front of the mirror and running a hand over his ass.

"That was uncalled for, Shawn," Gus said. Shawn ignored him, twirling in front of the mirror.

"These are absolutely perfect. Quick! We need to get to the station! I have a plan!"

* * *

Shawn ran into the station, coming to a stop in front of Lassiter's desk. He stood, panting, for a moment, then turned around and dropped his keys. He bent over, slowly, and picked them up. Lassiter watched, frozen, the paperwork in his hands completely forgotten. Shawn turned back around and grinned.

"Shawn," Lassiter said, eyes narrowing in suspicion. "What are you doing?"

"Oh, nothing much, Lassifrass. Why? There something you want to be doing?" Shawn said. He sauntered around the side of Lassiter's desk and stopped in front of him, invading his personal space with a cheeky smile. He then leaned casually against Lassiter's desk, making the other man forget what he was going to say as he watched the way Shawn's hips moved.

"Lassie? There something on your mind?" Shawn asked. He put on a concerned expression and gently stroked Lassiter's shoulder. Lassiter snapped back to reality and glared at Shawn, which just made Shawn grin again.

"Whatever you think you're doing, stop," Lassiter said. Shawn's smile dimmed, and he took his hand back.

"You're still serious about that?" he asked. When Lassiter just continued to glare, Shawn sighed and stood, backing away from the detective.

"Fine," he said, smiling brightly. "I have to go buy Gus a smoothie, anyway. He's so sensitive about my relationship with his mother." He started walking jauntily away.

"Shawn, I didn't mean-" Lassiter called after him.

"Sorry, Lassie, places to be, pineapple to blenderize. You know how it is. Catch you later," Shawn called back, waving as he exited the police station. Lassiter sighed, watching him go. When Shawn was completely out of sight, he let his head fall into his hands.

"Way to go, Carlton," he muttered.

"What was that about?" Juliet asked, walking up to him.

"Nothing," Lassiter snapped. He turned his attention resolutely back to the paperwork covering his desk.

"Oookay," Juliet said, eyes widening. "Didn't look like 'nothing'." Lassiter ignored her. Juliet rolled her eyes and turned to leave.

"He's just so stubborn," Lassiter said abruptly, still staring at the pieces of paper in front of him. Juliet laughed, shaking her head. He glared up at her. "What?"

"Yeah, **he's **the stubborn one," Juliet said, grinning. Lassiter narrowed his eyes at her. "Alright, alright, he's stubborn. It's true."

"He is," Lassiter said, still glaring at his partner.

"Is he being stubborn about anything in particular?" Juliet ventured. Lassiter opened his mouth to respond, then seemed to think better of it and snapped it closed. He glared back down at his desk.

"Nothing," he muttered. Juliet snorted. "Don't you have work you should be doing, O'Hara?" he sniped. Juliet just shook her head and beat a hasty retreat. She almost felt sorry for Shawn. There wasn't enough money in the world to get **her** to date Carlton Lassiter, especially when he was in such a mood. _Better him than me_, she thought, and settle down for her own battle with the Evil Paperwork.

* * *

Gus walked into the Psych office to find Shawn morosely downing a pineapple smoothie.

"Shawn?" he asked. Shawn glanced up at him and put down his smoothie.

"Oh, Gus. I'm sad to report the failure of my brilliant plan," he said. "I know how disappointed you must be. I am too."

"Shawn, I have no idea what you're talking about," Gus said. Shawn, predictably, ignored him and carried on.

"Never fear, though, my lactose-intolerant friend. I have another, even more brilliant plan," Shawn said.

"Please tell me that your plan doesn't involve dairy products. You know it makes me nervous when you bring up my lactose intolerance," Gus said.

"Huh? No. I bring it up because I made you a smoothie, then realized you wouldn't be able to drink it because of its pineapple ice cream based nature. Being the considerate friend I am, I drank yours before I started mine. You're welcome, by the way," Shawn said. Gus snorted, which Shawn ignored. He was already staring into space, clearly already planning another escapade that might or might not get them arrested.

"Maybe I just didn't utilize them properly," Shawn muttered, clearly distracted. Gus watched him suspiciously. Shawn had teased him with the smoothie, which was normal, but the teasing had been half-hearted at best. And Shawn hadn't forgotten Gus' lactose intolerance since that time in eleventh grade when Shawn had dared him to drink a glass of milk, and Gus had consequently spent hours befouling his bathroom. It had been a very memorable event.

No, Shawn was only **this** distracted when it came to his relationship with Lassiter.

"Shawn..." Gus said. "Shawn, you're not going to make me help you seduce your boyfriend, are you? I've told you before that I don't want to hear about your sex life."

"When have you told me that?" Shawn asked. Gus rolled his eyes.

"I've told you every time you've ever started a new relationship, but you conveniently forget every single time. I'm still scarred from the things you told me about Soren and Lucinda!"

"Soren... He was the Swedish masseuse, right? And I never told you anything about Lucinda. I wouldn't betray a nun's confidence like that," Shawn said.

"Oh yes you did. Two weeks after you got back from your 'Religious Retreat,' you make me go bar-hopping with you, and I heard more than I ever wanted to know about the exercises the Sisters do to stay fit," Gus said.

"Oh yeah..."

"Shawn."

"What?"

"Do not drag me into your relationship troubles. We both know Lassiter would arrest me, just out of spite," Gus said. "He's probably going to shoot me already, since I'm the one who took you to the mall when you got those pants."

"Oh, Gus. You're so silly. Carly's just a big teddy bear, he wouldn't arrest you. And besides, he likes the pants, I know it. You should have seen his face," Shawn said gleefully. Then he frowned. "No, he's just being stubborn."

"You have some frightening ideas about your boyfriend," Gus said, staring at Shawn incredulously.

"Gus, shh, I'm perfecting my plan. Obviously the pants work. I just need to think of a way to use them more effectively..."

Gus stopped listening. Shawn didn't notice, and continued rambling on while he fine-tuned Tight Pants Plan the Second.

* * *

Lassiter let himself into his apartment, letting his keys drop to the small table by the door. He was secretly pleased to note the sound of cartoons playing from the other room, since it meant Shawn was home already. Hopefully Carlton would get a chance to apologize for being, well, a prick earlier at the station.

"Carly? That you?" Shawn called.

"Yeah," Lassiter called back, depositing his things in the front hall closet. He noticed with a surge of affection that Shawn's shoes were neatly stowed on the shoe rack, and his motorcycle helmet was right where it should be on the shelf above the coats. Shawn wasn't a naturally neat or organized person, so when he did little things like this, it made Carlton feel, well, happy. He smiled and went to give his boyfriend a kiss.

"What do you want for dinner?" Shawn asked as Carlton came into view. He was sprawled across the couch, still wearing the very... tight... jeans from earlier. They hung low on his hips, making his hipbones stand out, especially with the way his shirt was riding up, and... Oh, yeah. Shawn had asked him something.

"Mm?" Carlton asked. Shawn stood and stretched, making his shirt ride up even further and drawing attention to the thin trail of hair leading from his belly button to the fly of his jeans. Carlton felt very... warm.

"Dinner?" Shawn asked. He ambled over to the kitchen and opened up the fridge to peer inside. Carlton followed helplessly behind him.

"What..." Carlton stopped to clear his throat. "Whatever you want."

"Whatever I want?" Shawn asked as he bent over to look at something inside the fridge. Carlton started feeling suspicious.

"Shawn..."

"How do you feel about Chinese?" Shawn asked, standing up and moving towards a pile of takeout menus on the counter. Carlton watched him with narrowed eyes, his suspicions confirmed when Shawn 'accidentally' brushed the Chinese menu off the counter and had to bend over to pick it up.

"Shawn."

"Yes, Lassie?" Shawn asked, standing back up and looking through the menu.

"Not tonight. Please," Carlton said quietly. Shawn was still for a moment, then he threw down the menu and spun to face Lassiter.

"Why?" he asked, his expression mutinous.

"I can't-"

"Why?"

"Shawn, please just-"

"Look at me, Carlton. It's been a **month**. You can't bullshit me about this being for my own good anymore. I'm fine! My concussion healed, the bruises are long gone, and I've been walking without the ankle brace for weeks," Shawn said, his glare poorly masking the hurt he obviously felt. "Tell me the real reason you're refusing to have sex with me."

"I can't..."

"Can't **what**, Carlton?"

"I can't lose you!" Lassiter shouted, finally breaking. Shawn looked taken aback. Lassiter closed his eyes in defeat. "Shit."

"What does that mean? You can't lose me?"

"You... you didn't see yourself, Shawn. Before the paramedics got to you. Before I... before I managed to untie you," Carlton said. He opened his eyes, and Shawn was surprised at how fierce his expression was. "It was the worst thing I've ever seen. You have no idea how close I came to shooting the son of a bitch who kidnapped you."

"Hey," Shawn said softly, walking toward Lassiter. He took the other man's hands in his, soothing away the clenched fists he'd unconsciously made. "I'm okay now. I'm fine."

"He hit you, Shawn. You were unconscious when we got to you. I thought you might be dead. And then they weren't sure if you'd wake up."

"I'm okay now," Shawn repeated, squeezing Lassiter's hands.

"You're not allowed to leave me. Not like that," Lassiter said quietly, looking down at their joined hands. The barely-restrained despair in Lassiter's voice overwhelmsed Shawn, so he did what he always did and cracked a joke to distract them both.

"Not allowed? Is it, what, illegal? Will you **arrest** me?" Shawn asked playfully. Lassiter's mouth twitched.

"Yeah. I'll arrest you," Lassiter said, smirking. Shawn grinned.

"With the handcuffs? 'Cause I wouldn't mind getting arrested if it means you'll use the handcuffs on me again," Shawns said.

"I'm not allowed to fraternize with suspects," Lassiter said smugly.

"Oh, that's low. You're such a tease."

"I'm the tease? So says the man who's been parading himself around in tight pants all day."

"Lassie, Lassie, Lassie. You know you like them. And 'tease' is not the correct terminology. I meant to follow through," Shawn said. "Unlike a certain hand-cuff-toting detecive."

Lassiter went quiet, staring down at their hands again.

"Lassie? That was a joke. Ha? Yes?" Shawn said, peering up into Lassiter's eyes.

"Sorry, if I've been a... tease," Lassiter said gruffly, refusing to meet Shawn's gaze. "I just need a little bit more time."

"All right," Shawn said amicably. He gave Carlton a quick peck on the cheek, then picked the Chinese menu back up."Do you want the orange chicken or the Mongolian beef? ...Never mind, we'll just get both."

"'All right'? All right? You spend all day trying to seduce me against my will, make me talk about my _feelings_, and all you have to say is 'all right'?" Lassiter asked, narrowing his eyes at Shawn. Shawn rolled his eyes.

"Lassie. Now that you've actually explained yourself, I'm cool with the no-sex thing. I promise I won't seduce you until you're ready," Shawn said, as patiently as possible. He thought for moment, then added, "Well I won't seduce you on _purpose_. We both know you can't resist me."

Lassiter rolled his eyes at Shawn's grin. "Uh-huh. Great. Whatever. Go ahead order the damn food, Spencer." He shook his head and headed back to the living room.

"It's not my fault if I'm irresistible!" Shawn called after him.

* * *

It's two weeks later, and Shawn's kept his promise to Lassiter, for which Lassiter is grateful. Mostly. The last couple of days, he's been thinking that he wouldn't mind if Shawn were to try and seduce him again. He might not even bother with putting up a show of resistance. He's starting to think that maintaining his pride is much less important than getting into his boyfriend's pants.

Who's he kidding? It's not even close.

So when Shawn shows up at the station that evening wearing those damn tight pants again, Lassiter can feel his control just slipping down the drain along with his pride and possibly key parts of his brain.

"Hey, Lassie. You about finished here? I finally talked Gus into trying that new Thai place with us. We should go before he changes his mind," Shawn says. He waits a beat, then notices how Carlton's eyes are riveted on his pants. "Oh. Sorry. I promise I'm still not trying to seduce you. It's just laundry day, and these're my cleanest pants at the moment."

"Uh huh," Lassiter says intelligently, before he's able to wrest his attention away from the pants. "I'll be done in a bit. I need to finish filling out this form."

"Okay," Shawn says. Lassiter goes back to his paperwork (which he swears procreates while he's not looking), and Shawn wanders over to say hello to McNab and a few others. Lassiter tries not to watch him go.

"Oh for the love of god," Juliet says. Lassiter definitely doesn't jump, because he definitely knew she was there.

"What do you want, O'Hara?" he asks irritably.

"Will you please just do us all a favor and make out already? Or something. Whatever. I don't know what you and Shawn are up to, but you're drowning the rest of us in sexual tension," Juliet says."Seriously, it's starting to get annoying."

"I don't know what you're talking about," Lassiter grits out. He can feel a blush burning along his cheekbones. Damn his Irish complexion.

"Wait a minute..." Juliet says, staring at him. He can almost hear that bright little brain of hers ticking away. Her mouth drops open. "You two haven't been having sex, have you?"

Lassiter tries to ignore her, blushing even harder.

"Why haven't you been having sex?" Juliet asks him in an incredulous whisper. Lassiter is glad that she at least knows that he **will** shoot her if she goes shouting about his sex life.

"None of your business," he says to her.

"Are you guys all right? You're not fighting, are you?" Juliet asks, all concern.

"We're fine. We're not fighting. We just haven't-" Lassiter stops abruptly, realizing that she's managed to get him to say much more than he wanted to.

"So what's the hold up? I wasn't kidding about the sexual tension. Whenever you two are together lately, it's thick enough to drown in. I don't know how you can stand it," Juliet says.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Lassiter repeats. Juliet snorts, and he responds by glaring. She grins mischievously.

"So you won't mind if I do something, will you?" she asks.

"Do what?" Lassiter asks, but she's already walking to where Shawn's standing a few yards away. "O'Hara!"

He watches in trepidation as she bumps into Shawn, managing to drop a pen in the process. He hears her apologize, and watches as Shawn bends over to pick it up for her. He watches denim shift and stretch over tight muscle. He can't look away.

O'Hara smirks at him, and knows he's lost.

* * *

Shawn says goodbye to McNab and Juliet, figuring that Carlton should be done by now. He walks back over to Lassie's desk, texting Gus that they're about to leave. When he finally looks up, he's completely unprepared for the look Lassie hits him with. It's like he's trying to fuck him with his eyes.

"Lassie?" he asks, uncertain. Lassiter stands and picks up his things, calmly. Too calmly for the way he's still looking at Shawn.

"Tell Gus we're not going to make dinner," he commands, and oh man, his voice is starting to do that growly thing that sends shivers up Shawn's spine.

"We're not making dinner?" he asks. It's not the wittiest thing he's ever said, but his brain is trying to melt out his ears, so whatever.

"No. We're not. We're going to be busy," Lassiter says. He stalks out from behind his desk and grabs hold of Shawn's elbow. His grip is hard but not painful as he leads him out to the car. Shawn is starting to feel all warm and tingly, and Lassie had better be talking about what he thinks he is or else Shawn will happily murder him.

"What are we going to be busy with? What should I tell Gus?" he asks. His voice is already deeper than usual. Can he help it if the way Carlton casually manhandles him turns him on?

"I don't care what you tell him. And you know what we're going to be busy with," Carlton growls. He deposits Shawn at the passenger side of his car and walks around to the driver side.

"Lassie! Are you finally ready to sex me up?" Shawn asks jubilantly. Lassiter gives him a hard look over the top of the car.

"Shawn, I'm ready to tear your clothes off and fuck you senseless. Get in the damn car unless you want me to do it here in the parking lot," he says, and slams his way into the car. His words send a bolt of electricity through Shawn, who hurriedly complies and gets into the car. Lassiter starts to drive, ignoring him. His hands are tight on the wheel and his mouth is tense. Shawn's pretty sure that if he asked him to, Lassiter would pull over right this second and just take him right there in the front seat.

But instead of doing that (front seats never have enough room, and hello, no lube), Shawn elects to text Gus with the change in plans. Gus texts back that he **didn't** need to know that Lassie was finally going to screw Shawn into next year, to which Shawn responds that that's what friends are for. Gus ignores him.

Lassiter speeds on the way to their apartment, which is just awesome because Lassie _never_ speeds. The air in the car feels like it's full of electricity, and Shawn can hardly believe that he's this excited when Lassie hasn't even touched him yet.

They make it home in record time, and practically race each other to the front door. Carlton growls when he has to stop to unlock the door, so Shawn takes the opportunity to run his hands all over Carlton's chest under his suit jacket. Carlton stiffens, then throws the door open and yanks Shawn in after him. He slams the door shut, then pushes Shawn up against it hard enough to send the breath from his lungs. Before he can get it back, Lassie's mouth is on his, devouring, and Shawn decides that oxygen is overrated anyway.

He pushes back just as hard, just as hungry for touch and taste and god the way Carlton smells, gunpowder and clean soap and the bitter coffee they serve at the station. Lassiter is pulling at his shirt, trying to get it over his arms and head, so Shawn pulls back from their kiss to get some air and help him get it off. Lassiter tosses the shirt to the side and latches onto one of Shawn's nipples, sucking hard enough to leave a bruise and send a bolt of heat straight to Shawn's groin. He throws his head back with a moan, sending it into the door behind him with a painful thunk.

"Ow. Fuck," he says, and Carlton pulls back. "Don't _stop_!" he says desperately, trying to pull Lassie back to what he was doing. But he refuses, saying,

"Bed."

Shawn huffs in annoyance, but agrees. Carlton pushes him in front of him and Shawn hurries to the bedroom, undoing the button to his fly as he goes. He glances behind him to see Lassie discarding his tie and jacket and starting on the buttons of his shirt. Little teases of skin are peeking through at his wrists and collar, more and more as the buttons come undone. Shawn hums in appreciation.

"Have I ever told you how fucking hot you are?" he asks, watching as more of Carlton's chest is revealed. He catches Lassie smirking at him, and oh, it is **on**.

Shawn smiles and runs his hands from his waist up to each of his nipples, backing slowly away. He tweaks both nipples roughly and moans happily. Lassie's eyes darken. Shawn licks his lips in invitation and trails his hands back down his stomach to play at the waistband of his jeans. Carlton takes a heavy step forward, eyes tracking up and down his body. Shawn grins and flees to the bedroom.

"Shawn!" Lassie yells, chasing after him. Shawn laughs madly as he's tackled to the bed by the other man and wrestled onto his back. They're both panting and Carlton is glaring down at him, which just makes Shawn want to rub himself up against him. So he does. He writhes between Lassie and the bed, loving the way the cotton of Carlton's dress shirt rubs against his nipples. He wraps his legs around Carlton's waist and grinds their cocks together through their pants.

Carlton gasps and plants his hands on either side of Shawn's head, to give himself better leverage to thrust back against Shawn. Shawn groans as they rock together, but soon it's not enough, he has to feel Lassie's skin against his own, has to have him inside him right now or he'll explode, and Lassie will be sad, and that's not good, so_ why isn't Lassie naked yet_.

He grabs at Lassie's dress shirt, fumbling as he tries to finish unbuttoning it. He finally manages it and pushes Lassie back so that they can sit up and he can get the shirt off of him. Lassie lets him do as he pleases, choosing to suck a mark onto Shawn's neck while Shawn pushes the shirt off his shoulders. Shawn doesn't let the feeling of tongue and teeth distract him (much) and pushes his hands up underneath Carlton's undershirt. Carlton's skin is so smooth and hot and wonderful, and Shawn wants to _taste_ it so he yanks Carlton's undershirt off and presses sloppy open-mouthed kisses all along the other man's chest. Carlton groans in appreciation and lets Shawn play for a minute before pushing him back and reaching for his waistband.

"Pants. Off," he says, his voice gone husky and hoarse and fuck if that's not the hottest thing Shawn's ever heard. Shawn helps him undo his fly and pull his pants down past his ass and halfway down his thighs. Lassie's eyes fasten on his cock.

"You're not wearing underwear," he breathes.

"Laundry day," Shawn explains. Carlton chuckles and leans forward to wrap his mouth around his erection, and if Shawn wasn't hard before, he sure as hell is now. He has enough time to feel the hotwetgood before Carlton's pulling back so that he can finish peeling his pants off of him. Once that's accomplished, Shawn focuses on Carlton's belt, undoing and pulling it out of his pants. He tosses it to the side, satisfied to hear it thump against the wall. He undoes the opening to Carlton's pants, pushing them down just far enough to wrap his hand around the other man's cock through his boxers.

Carlton shudders and gasps, and Shawn catches his mouth with his own, sucking on his tongue as he flexes his hand around him. Carlton moans in response, his hands gripping hard at Shawn's waist. Shawn releases Carlton to push his pants and boxers down. Carlton finishes kicking them off, then rolls over to pull open the drawer of the bedside table to grab the bottle of lube stashed inside. Shawn grabs a pillow and pushes it under his his hips, then waits with building anticipation, his legs flung wide.

Carlton crawls back over to Shawn and opens the bottle, drizzling it liberally between his cheeks and over his hole. He plunges first one finger in, then a second, too impatient to wait for long. Judging by the way Shawn's bucking and writhing under his hand, he's just as ready. He squeezes some lube onto his palm and gives his cock a few quick tugs, then lines himself up with Shawn and thrusts in.

Shawn feels pain and pleasure explode over his skin, tingling as it moves across his chest and makes his heart thump loudly. Lassiter moans and drops his head on Shawn's shoulder with a heavy thump. Shawn can barely hold on any longer, he wraps his hands around Carlton's upper arms and squeezes. Lassiter lifts his head up off Shawn's shoulder and looks him in the eyes as he slowly pulls out and then pushes back in roughly, making Shawn see black and throw his head back against the bed.

Shawn moans and writhes as he thrusts his hips against Carlton's. Lassiter grips Shawn's hips tightly, thrusting wildly as he feels his excitement build. Shawn digs his blunt nails into Lassiter's arms, he's so close. Lassiter's thrusts become rougher and deeper, one final thrust and they both fall over the edge. Shawn clings tightly to Lassiter as the pleasure overtakes him and sweat pours off his and Lassiter's bodies. Carlton collapses on top of Shawn, their heart beats reverberating through their heaving chests.

When Shawn finally gets his breath back, he can't help but laugh.

"What?" Carlton mumbles into his shoulder.

"I knew those pants were a great idea."

* * *

Acknowledgments: Huge, huge thanks go to lexi_samgirl. She really saved my ass and was instrumental in finishing this fic. Thanks also to asherxslasher, who beta'd this fic for me.


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